Safe With Me
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: There is something Albus Dumbledore will never tell Severus Snape.  Rated for questionable content.


**Safe With Me**

_Written for SophiaL17 and Archea—thank you for always being such wonderful reviewers. I hope that this is something that will please you both._

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When you arrive in my office, you slump ungracefully into an armchair and rest your head in your hand. In our fifteen years of close companionship, I have never seen you act in such a way. When your eyes flick toward me, they are slightly unfocused and red-rimmed. You are exhausted. I stand and move toward you, kneeling before you, not needing to speak.

Finally, you lift your weary head and turn your face to mine. "My head..."

Your voice is so soft, almost like a whisper, and it saddens me. Again you return your head to its supporting hand, and your eyes drift closed. I reach out and touch your burning forehead, feeling the heat emanate from beneath your pale skin.

Your body is beginning to cave in on itself; you can hardly find the strength to keep yourself upright. I catch you before you fall and pull you close to me. I do not speak, still, because I do not wish to cause you any more pain.

I pick you up, gentle as I can be, and move into the adjoining bedroom. I climb the brief set of spiral stairs, careful to watch your head to make sure you do not knock against the solid stone. Your eyes are half open, half closed. This suggests to me that you are lingering in this world, pulled down by exhaustion.

I put you on the bed, my bed, resting your head amongst the soft, plump pillows and brushing my hand across your forehead as a gesture of affection. There is a ruby and gold blanket resting on top of the thick covers; I wrap it around you. Your face turns towards me slightly, but I know you do not see me. You are asleep.

I watch over you for a moment. All the lines disappear from your face as your expression slackens. I sit on the bed next to you, transfixed. You have always been so interesting to me, since I first regained your allegiance fifteen years ago. You are so young, and yet aged long before your time.

That is my doing.

I touch my hand to your forehead once more, and your skin nearly burns me. You are so warm. I consider sending for Poppy—but instead, I conjure a bowl of water and cloth. I soak the cloth and lie it on your brow, trying to dab the heat away.

It is during those tender—and they are tender—administrations that it happens. I did not mean to intrude—and you would understand that. How was I to know you were not protecting your mind in any way?

How was I to know that you were tired you did not have the strength?

And I saw him, Severus. I saw him push you back against the wall. I saw the way his nails scraped down your cheek, in a warped version of how I have shown my love for you, so many times. I felt the way he held you in place. I sensed your fear as he whispered against your ear. Words of lust. And I saw the way he forced his lips on yours.

I withdraw, immediately, shaken to my very core. You are still sleeping, and for a second, I am angry. So this is what happens, when you are with him? I send you to spy, and instead, you are consorting with him in every sense of the word? And the hatred that flows through me surprises even myself, for I could never feel such an emotion for you.

Of course, I feel the complete opposite, and that is why I am angry. I have never found the courage to tell you how deep my feelings run, and now I am paying the price.

You moan in your sleep, and turn your head slightly. I adjust the cloth and continue to contemplate you. I could never take you physically—I know how much you despise physical contact, and...well, as surprised as you would be, my boy, I too cannot stand it. I believe that touch can work wonders, yes—but it can also be manipulative.

Does that mean you will never understand how I feel? If I ever told you, how would you react?

Because I want you to understand, Severus. I want you to understand that you will always be safe with me.

You moan again, louder this time, and beneath the cloth, I see your forehead crumple. Is it the images again, my dear? Is it the nightmares that plague your every quiet moment? Why will no-one give you relief?

I have moved before I really understand what I am doing. It was an urge I could not ignore. I put my arms around you, and I pull you into a cradling embrace. I hold you there, curled against my chest, simply watching you. I do that so much.

I watch you. I watch your every facial expression, your every movement, your every gesture, so I can try to understand you more. You do not know that I am doing it, at times. Other times, you simply let me. Maybe you would like to be understood?

I shift position so I am more comfortable. I have no intention to leave you tonight, no matter what other duties call me away.

He does not love you, Severus. I think you know that. Then why do you let him touch you in such a way? I know that is not just tonight. Seeing that, seeing him kiss you, explains so much. He believes that he owns more than just your soul—he believes he owns your body too. Maybe you have allowed him to believe that for so long that...you believe it too? But he does not.

And he certainly does not own your heart—he cannot.

I want someone else to be the one who has your affections.

If you were to wake now, I wonder what you might think. Me, holding you so close, in an embrace that can so easily confused between that of the father...and that of a lover.

I think it might frighten you—you do not understand what love is. That is why I have never told you how I truly feel—for fear of losing you altogether.

Because that I could not bear.

You are quieter now, seemingly soothed by my presence. I wonder if that is the case? Does my being here make you feel better?

Does it make you feel secure?

I will never tell you that I love you, Severus Snape, not because you do not deserve it—for you do. It is the other way around. I do not deserve you. I do not deserve someone who is so heroic, someone who is so determined to do right, someone whose heart is light inside, at its very core.

I will never tell you that I love you because that would be selfish of me—you would feel like you would have to react in the way that I would like, and that is not fair.

So I resign myself to the fact that you will never know. But I can tell you something. You will always be welcome here, in my office, in my bedroom, in my arms. When you need that comforting—and you will need that comforting—you can come here.

I will do my best to protect you from the evils of the world. I cannot protect you from him—but I can protect you from the side effects of his power.

Is that love? I think so.

Love makes someone feel wanted and safe.

And Severus Snape, my dear, beautiful Severus, you will always be safe with me.

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_Inspired by Don Johnson's "Your Love Is Safe With Me."_


End file.
